


as the stars spin above us

by katsumi



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Minor Monty Green/Nathan Miller, Post-Canon, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 13:30:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10787652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsumi/pseuds/katsumi
Summary: It's not that Bellamy doesn't want to kiss Clarke. It's just he was hoping if he ever got the chance, it would be for a slightly more romantic (and decidedly less cliché) reason than spin the bottle.





	as the stars spin above us

**Author's Note:**

> Took a tumblr drabble and expanded on it to include _more kissing_ because we all need more kissing.
> 
> Set in some future and intentionally unspecified canon world where people live and the earth is habitable and things are good.

On principle, Bellamy tries not to highlight the fact that he’s half a decade older than most of his friends. It doesn't always work.

“ _Spin the bottle?_ Seriously?”

Miller grins. “Does grandpa disapprove?”

“I don’t _disapprove_ ," says Bellamy, taking a swig of moonshine. "I just don’t—seriously, that’s how you want to spend your time?”

Miller shrugs. “We have booze and a free evening. Why not?”

Bellamy glances over to the campfire where Raven is attempting to braid a chunk of Jasper’s entirely-too-long hair, Harper’s head nestled in her lap. Clarke is watching them, hands folded in front of her knees, grinning as Raven smacks Jasper’s shoulder in a plea to keep still.

When Clarke catches Bellamy’s eye, her smile softens into something warm and light, hazy in the firelight. He’s never quite gotten used to this version of Clarke, the woman no longer bears the weight of the human race on her shoulders. To see gentleness where once there was room only for stony determination still threatens to take his breath away.

“Clarke’s playing,” Miller adds, not-so-subtly elbowing Bellamy in the side.

“Shut up,” says Bellamy.

It’s not that Bellamy doesn’t want to kiss Clarke. That’s not it at all. If he’s being really honest with himself, he’s wanted to kiss Clarke for years.

It’s just—he was hoping if he ever got the chance, it would be for a slightly more romantic (and decidedly less cliché) reason than spin the bottle. Both because the very concept of spin the bottle makes him wince—they’re adults now, they should have better ways to spend their time—and because spin the bottle is, by necessity, a very public affair.

He really doesn’t want to kiss Clarke for the first time at Raven’s birthday party, surrounded by friends drunk on moonshine, all because a bottle happened to point in his direction.

“Is Blake being a coward about this?” Raven calls across the clearing.

“What do you think?” Miller shouts back. He pats Bellamy’s arm. “What do you say? In or out?”

Bellamy catches Clarke’s eye again, sees her worry her lip as she smiles, and—fuck.

“I’m in,” says Bellamy. “But I want it on record that I think this is stupid.”

“Of course you do,” says Miller, pushing him towards the others.

He makes his way towards the fire and plops down next to Miller. Harper sits up, scooching next to Raven, and Jasper swings his feet over Bellamy’s lap, which Bellamy pretends to be find more annoying than he really does. Monty and Jackson squeeze into the circle, and then there’s a moment where they’re all just sitting there, quiet.

“So?” says Bellamy. “How do we do this?”

“Dude,” says Monty. “It’s a pretty easy concept.”

“I meant who’s going to spin first,” Bellamy grouches.

“Well,” says Raven, “it’s my birthday, so I’m pretty sure I get to do the honors.”

Harper nods. “Those are the rules, yeah.”

“Sweet.” Raven lunges for the bottle. “Here goes.”

Turns out, spin the bottle is way more fun than Bellamy thought it would be. The alcohol helps, dulling that prickle of tension he's still in the habit of holding at the base of his neck. And plus, they’re all friends here. He laughs when Raven’s spin lands on a giggling Harper, when Harper crawls across Raven to peck Jasper on the lips, when Miller tries to half-heartedly fight Jasper away from his mouth.

Miller’s the first to get him, and he tugs Bellamy towards him with fond aggression, his kiss firm and scratchy and not at all unpleasant.

“Not bad, Miller,” says Bellamy, grinning as he pulls away.

Miller huffs, leaning back on his palms. “I try.”

“He does,” Monty adds, from across the circle. Miller smirks.

When Bellamy takes his spin, it looks for a moment like the bottle’s going to land on Clarke. But it’s just a tad too fast, passing her and hitting Raven instead.

Raven rolls her eyes, like this is some kind of major inconvenience.

“You’ve kissed me before,” Bellamy reminds her as he leans forward.

“Eww,” is all Raven says before she kisses him: firm and fierce and so much less fraught than the last time they did this, years ago.

When he pulls back, he turns to find Clarke laughing, her head tipped onto Monty’s shoulder. She smiles at him, and Bellamy’s whole body feels warm in a way that has nothing to do with the campfire.

When Raven’s next spin lands right on Clarke, he's a little...well, annoyed is probably too strong a word. It’s just a game. Raven crawls forward to kiss Clarke before she can even move, her head still wedged onto Monty’s shoulder. And then, because Monty’s laughing so hard, she reaches up to kiss him too.

“That’s cheating!” says Monty, laughing as Raven pulls away.

“It’s my _birthday_ ,” Raven retorts, smacking a kiss to his nose.

The game goes on: Jackson kissing Harper, Jasper kissing Raven, and Miller stopping the bottle mid-spin with his palm so he can tug Monty forward by the chin.

It's fun, light. But it turns out, Bellamy was so concerned with the public aspect of spin the bottle that he didn’t consider the bigger issue: that even after an entire game, he might not get to kiss Clarke at all.

First, she spins Harper, whom Clarke pulls down for a quick, smiling kiss. But then, as the game goes on, he has to watch her kiss Jackson, and Jasper, and Raven _again_ , and it’s starting to feel a little like the game has it in for him.

Clarke doesn’t seem all that perturbed. She doesn’t bat an eye when Bellamy kisses Harper twice in a row, and she even cheers when he kisses Monty—long and open-mouthed, just for the pleasure of watching Miller squirm. (Miller winds up yanking him back with mutters of _that’s enough, jackass_.) 

As they’re winding down, it occurs to Bellamy that they’ve each kissed more than their fair share of people. Yet at no point have they managed to get the bottle to land on each other.

Figures. 

Eventually Raven yawns, stretching her arms high above her head. “We should call it soon. I’m tired.”

“Pretty sure it’s past midnight,” says Jasper. “Meaning it’s not your birthday anymore, and we no longer have to listen to you.”

Raven just stares at him.

“Let’s call it a night,” Jasper backtracks.

Raven grins. “Clarke, take the last spin!”

Clarke nods, reaching for the bottle. She gives Bellamy some odd, cautious look before looking back down at the bottle and twisting her wrist, sending it whirling across the dirt.

But of course, the top just passes where Bellamy’s sitting, inching over to land on Miller instead.

“Aw fuck,” Miller groans.

Clarke rolls her eyes, and Bellamy tries to keep as neutral a face as possible despite the infuriating disappointment curdling in his gut. _Just a game_ , he reminds himself. _A game you didn’t even want to play_.

Clarke crawls forward, and Bellamy leans back a little to give her a clearer path. So it takes him completely by surprise when, at the last moment, she veers left, right into his space, and presses her lips to his.

It’s barely anything, over almost as soon as it began, but it’s enough to take all the air from Bellamy’s chest. She lingers close, her breath warm on his cheeks, and he blinks at her, barely registering the sounds of the group, barely registering anything at all.

Then Miller claps him on the shoulder, shocking him out of his reverie. The roaring in his ears crystallizes, morphing into the whoops and hollers of the group. Clarke is smiling, leaning back into Monty’s hug, and Raven fist-pumps the air with delight.

“Best birthday ever!”

Bellamy lingers by the fire as they pack up, trying to get a somewhat firmer hold on himself. He hears the snap of a twig behind him and turns to find Clarke, arms clasped behind her back. He can just make out the rest of the group walking back up the hill behind her. 

They’re alone.

She takes a cautious step forward, smile soft. “I just really didn’t want to kiss Miller. Just so you know.”

“Understandable,” he manages. “He’s not gentle.”

“That’s not actually a problem for me,” says Clarke. (Bellamy almost chokes.) “But in general, I prefer to kiss people who actually want to kiss me.”

Bellamy swallows. “Oh.”

Clarke looks at him a moment, considering. Almost as if she’s waiting for something. And Bellamy figures—this is probably as good a moment as any.

“You should, uh—” He clears his throat, tries again. “You should free to avoid kissing Miller anytime.”

Her gaze flicks down to his lips again, and Bellamy can feel his heart stutter. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Right now, for instance. You know. If you want.” 

He actually sags with relief when Clarke closes the distance between them and kisses him: sweet and slow and perfect. He cups her cheek, holding her gently in place, and it's like he can feel the earth moving beneath his feet.

She pulls back, but not away; if anything she steps closer, spreading her palm across his chest. When she opens her eyes, she looks at him with something like wonder. 

“Yeah?” he breathes. 

She nods, smiling so bright it almost hurts to look at.

He laughs, stroking his thumb across her cheek. “Okay, then. Good. Okay.”

This time, when she leans in, he’s ready for it.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want them to be happy y'all.
> 
> [leralynne](http://leralynne.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


End file.
